


Signing Off

by Nostro



Category: Alien: Isolation (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, alludes to possible relationships but ehh, i'll have to write that up at a later time :)), idk if i want to continue this or just let this be a oneshot???, lmk what u think!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostro/pseuds/Nostro
Summary: The story of Amanda Ripley's journey on Sevastapol through her own eyes; all her life has led up to this moment, and she finally gets the answer she has been looking for. She gets closure.





	Signing Off

**Author's Note:**

> First fic here! I have written before, but not on this medium. I recently went back to playing Alien: Isolation and I actually finished it for the first time. I have so many emotions and that also prompted me to rewatch all the films; my love for the series has never felt stronger. All feedback is appreciated as I'm not sure if I want to let this be a oneshot or possibly make this a multi-chapter fic.

The weight of her body is hard to bear; she can’t take it anymore. She wants to be strong, but her bones shake at every turn and corner. When had her hand started to shake, she’d wondered as she’d lifted the motion tracker. Her heart threatened to sink the very moment she heard the tracker alarm. Dread filled her at the sound and she’d started to hate it. How can she fight something so foreign and so deadly. How can she expect to win. _“Amanda, you’re smarter than this.”_ God, she can hear her mother’s voice. She was starting to hear it more frequently as her time on this hell progressed. She can’t shake her nerves, but she has to remain collected. She was so close to getting what she came here for. _“Please try, sweetheart. Find the flight recorder,”_ she hears.

 

She had dodged the creature at all costs. Even if it meant sacrificing someone else; guilt weighed on her, but she wasn’t a hero. She couldn’t save everyone. She had to save herself. Amanda Ripley was stranded on Sevastapol Station — no coms, no allies, and hardly any help. Clearly, the decommissioned station had fallen to ruin shortly before she’d landed. Poor souls turned to rationing, then scavenging, and finally looting. Matters only turned worse when the creature arrived and the disappearances begun. Panic turned into fear, and survival had only dwindled. The few that remained had little trust, especially towards outsiders. Ripley didn’t want to run into anymore of them nor the Working Joe androids. Working Joes started to malfunction—at least, that’s what it seemed like. Another problem, that’s all this place was; a giant cesspool of dark energy. She couldn’t shake that sensation of being alone. That awful sensation of having nothing to lose, stranded somewhere that practically didn’t exist. Nobody knows that she’s here. Nobody knows that she desperately needs help.

 

**I am so alone.**

 

•••

 

Searching for the recorder seemed like a complete waste. “Files Corrupted,” she’d read on the screen, her eyes instantly filling with tears. Frustration was a common emotion for her, and it was like her world of pain never ceased. She no longer needed to be stuck on this station; neither of her colleagues did. It isn’t long until she finds Samuels, trying to figure out why they couldn’t leave. Fortune wasn’t on their side. “I cannot access APOLLO…but I can try.” He closes the door, locks it, and shuts her out. Please, Samuels…don’t. Please stay. He was the first to show her any kind of mutual respect; treat her like she existed; treat her with professionalism and decency. He was invested in her story and, he wasn’t even human. He was real to her, and it hurt like hell to see him go through with his theory. He was doing this for her. A synthetic risking his life if it meant that she would receive some sort of ending to her mother’s final chapter. It was suicide, and yet… “I hope it brings some closure for you.” The power surged and he was gone.

 

Samuels couldn’t access APOLLO but he made a path ensuring that she could. All of Amanda’s life had been filled with loss, but it still hurt every single time—in fact, it hurt worse. Samuels didn’t deserve this. The knife in her heart seemed to turn and dig deeper. She could’ve collapsed, melted into a puddle; she wanted to be sucked out into space, devoid of life and meaning, but she couldn’t give up. She wasn't dead yet and surely that meant something. She was a survivor. Above all else, she was her mother's daughter.

 

“Thank you, Samuels,” she thinks. “I’ll miss you.”

 

After going through the terminals and eventually accessing APOLLO, she uncovers the truth. Weyland-Yutani wants this fucking alien. Priority one. All other considerations secondary. The Working Joes weren’t on the fritz, they were following orders. Fuck this place! She feels thwarted. Her face feels warm and she can feel her eyes glazing with water again. She wants to scream and hit something. She wants to be loud, but she has to hold her voice. Stay focused on the objective, Ripley. She hears her again:

 _“You’re doing great, Amy.”_ She flashbacks to riding her bike when she was probably seven, and had just barely learned how to ride. Her balance was off, and in the pit of her stomach she had that awful feeling of anticipation. She’d felt the bike start to wobble under her until she’d finally lost control and tipped over. It wasn’t a terrible fall, but it still hurt her growing bones. Her palms and forearms had burned from scraping against the rough concrete and her jeans had been scuffed on the knees. Then, in that moment, it was definitely a new feeling of pain for her and she immediately wanted to cry. With haste, her mother had ran to her side, immediately checking on her. “Don’t cry, baby. You’re alright. You did an amazing job. You were going so fast!” Ellen smiled, always reassuring. She stroked her cheek and looked at Amanda in the eyes. “You’re strong, Amy. Don’t ever forget that, ok? Life is hard sometimes, but what do we do?” Amanda forced her tears back, took a breath and smiled, “Get back up.”

 _“That’s right; now, get back up.”_ Amanda snaps back to reality, staring blankly at the terminal’s bold lettering.

 

_> SPECIMEN IS OFF THE STATION. SUSPEND ORDER 939._

…

_> >NEGATIVE. UNKNOWN READINGS DETECTED. CHECK THE CENTRAL REACTOR AND REPORT STATUS._

 

She logs off the terminal as a bitter taste leaves her mouth, a heaviness weighing down her shoulders, cracking her bones. She can’t take much more, but she has to. She has to keep fighting or else she won’t get to enjoy her life. She won’t get to look up at the stars and bask in them like she’d used to. _“They’re pretty like you, Amy. You’ll shine just like them.”_ She remembers her voice again. She can remember her so vividly. They’d always used to stargaze and pick their favorite constellations. They would go to the park, sit on a bench and listen to the ecosystem around them. Crickets chirping, a small gust of wind blowing the crispy leaves, the cool air engulfing them. Her mother twirling her hair, kissing her temple, holding her in a loving embrace — She’d missed that, when times seemed so much simpler. “I wish you were here,” she thought.

 

There wasn’t a day that went by when she didn’t think of her; it didn’t matter if she tried or not. She was the first thought when Amanda woke up from a dreamless sleep and the last thought when she’d closed her eyes. Amanda, over the course of her life, did manage to find comfort in other people. She’d relished those moments—sweet and tender, but those enjoyments were finite, and she’d always break things off prematurely. She couldn’t afford to lose people she cared about, and she felt that her heart could only take so much—even in this moment. It didn’t feel real. She felt nearly in a daze when she saw the hive. The station had to go. She couldn’t afford to have these aliens finding their way to civilization. She gripped the small key hanging around her neck, clutching it for a moment. Her mother had given her that key before she’d left to work on the Nostromo and she’d clutched it every time she needed strength, always believing it brought her some. It was time for the creatures to burn.

•••

 

_“…This is for my daughter…”_

 

The evocative message rings in her ears as she progresses through the steps Verlaine had told her on how to manually dock the Torrens. It seemed simple in hindsight, but this station was cursed and worse for wear. Ripley was suffering at the personal message her mother had left for her. To think that she would hear it fifteen years after the fact, Amanda was completely shattered. When her mother had disappeared, it flipped her world upside down. She had never felt so alone in her life, had never been reminded of her isolation until now. A child should never have to face losing at parent at such an early age, but Amanda had still held onto hope. She’d held onto hope even when the company had declared her mother deceased; she’d held onto hope even if it made her cry every night; she’d held onto hope even on her twenty-fifth birthday, when her mother’s spot at the table was empty again. She had held onto hope even if it teared her apart because having hope and keeping faith was better than facing the cold hard reality that her mother was probably dead. There wasn’t any evidence of her mother’s survival at all — until, the personal message. And still, her mother had yet to be found. Amanda hated the mystery surrounding her mother’s disappearance. She was out there somewhere, Amanda believed. She was out there, floating among the stars and she had finally reached and confirmed that conclusion.

 

_“…I had to protect you.”_

 

She loved her mother so much, but maybe now she could live her life without having to wonder; without having to think of what-ifs; without having to feel guilty. She was still grieving for her, but Samuels was right: it did offer some closure. Now, with Sevastopol heading straight for a head-on collision with KG-348’s atmosphere, she only had to make it to the bridge of the Torrens. The alien species would never be seen again; no more innocent people had to die a brutal death; and, she prayed that she would never have to speak of them ever again. Weyland-Yutani could bill her for the station; she didn’t fucking care.

 

Breathing was difficult; she was sure she had broken some ribs along the way, her entire body was battered. Part of her face felt sore, her arms felt as if they could snap. She managed to find the strength in herself to stand because she was going _home._

“Verlaine?” Her voice echoes and she’s met with nothing. Her skin crawls with an uneasy feeling. She presses the button to unlock the door and a horrified gasp drifts past her lips. She’s met with the heinous creature and she falls backwards. She manages to compose herself and stand just in time. One step back is followed by a giant step from the creature. She’s hyperventilating in fear; the only way to get rid of this thing is to also dispose of herself. Another step, and the hostile monster opens its jaws, hissing. She backs herself up into the airlock and… _“Oh God.”_ The force is immediate, and she’s blown into the black abyss of space. She has little oxygen left and she can feel the icy temperature starting to creep into her EVA suit. Her eyelids feel so heavy; she can’t keep them open. She’s exhausted and finally lets herself rest. She thinks of her mother: her dark hair, bright smile, and soft kind eyes. She’s starting to dream, and she hears her voice again.

 

_“Don’t worry. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll see you very soon. I love you, sweetheart…”_

 

And a strange light shines over her eyelids…then _nothingness._


End file.
